


Sorry, No Dice

by cottoncandyfacade



Category: Cuphead (Video Game)
Genre: Amnesia, Brainwashing, Child Dice, Cuphead - Freeform, Dice literally forgot everything, Flashbacks, Hypnosis, King Dice is gay and no one can convince me otherwise, King Dice's Parents - Freeform, Little Dice, M/M, Maybe will turn into Devil Dice?, Mugman - Freeform, Origin Story, Several headcannons oof, Stuff before the casino, The Devil is actually a prick, Yes I call him Kingsley, kinda sad, maybe?? - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-07-16 05:26:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16079360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cottoncandyfacade/pseuds/cottoncandyfacade
Summary: King Dice has forgotten everything but with the Cup Brothers doing their best to help him, he may just get all his memories back. However, the more they uncover, the more Dice begins to wonder how much he really wants to remember.





	1. Burning Bridges

**Author's Note:**

> HELLO I'M SICK-
> 
> I mean hi, I've been dealing with a fever and mental stuff for awhile so I kinda vanished for a hot second to deal with that. Still wrestling with those demons but it's getting better! Enough so that I could start writing again, considering it was super hard not to. 
> 
> Anyhoo, this does connect to my other fic "An Old Joke" or at least it takes place in the same universe. King Dice lost his memory, the boys try and help him get it back. It's gonna be a mixture of flashbacks and present day stuff and I'll do my best to make it clear which is which! Here we go!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> King Dice's world falls apart.

The contracts went up in flames and the Cup brothers left. The fire kept burning. 

Perhaps an imp had it's tail lit on fire, it could have been Mr. Wheezy hacking after the wallop he'd received or maybe the Devil and his tantrum caused some great Underworld blaze to kindle. No matter the cause, the casino was engulfed in the heat. Unlike the place underneath Inkwell Hell, it wasn't meant to be burning this brightly. 

King Dice had been tending to his wounds in his room, sour over the ordeal and refusing to talk to the Devil since he'd heard his boss badmouthed him. "Bad enough those kids beat me from here to heck, the man I did it for had to step on me too? I ought'a quit." He paused, thought on it and then sighed. "No. No, that's crazy talk. Ain't nothin' else I'm good at, ain't nothin' else I could do out there. It's better I stay here with the rest." The Die-man nodded, satisfied with his conclusion. 

That was when he noticed the bit of orange eating at his door and was suddenly in a fit of coughs. "Smoke? Fire? The Hell is goin' on out there?!" He rose to his feet and quickly stomped on the little spark before opening the door, a wave of heat hitting him like a hard slap. "Damn it, Lucifer!" He hissed, keeping his glove to his face as he narrowly ran through the hall, noticing the fire growing stronger at a terrifyingly swift pace. Once he made his way closer to the casino hall, he could finally hear the screams, people running out and avoiding the fire as best they could. "Damn it. Devil! DEVIL!" He called out as best he could, stopping when the smoke continued to fill his lungs. "Where the Hell are you?! We need to-" King Dice stopped for another round, finding it harder to breathe. Still, something inside urged him to continue looking for the Devil, told him not to go anywhere else until he found his Boss. "We need to leave! The whole place is-is gone!" 

Tables and chairs were fodder for the menace, glasses shattered and twisted in it's wake. Every cloth had at least a section turned to smoke at this point, the floor beginning to catch now that there weren't as many feet running on it. The cards caught on, the chips melted, any and every component of the casino was ruined. All the staff had fled. All, save for the manager. 

"Boss! Please!" Dice choked out, his eyes stinging and his feet growing weak. Why he was so adamant to look around when the Devil had most likely escaped was beyond him but a voice inside screamed he needed to find him. "I-" He gasped, the wind knocked out of him as just breathing became even more painful than what it had been already. King Dice was seeing spots, his vision swallowed up swiftly by the darkness. Unable to support himself any longer, King Dice collapsed, managing to hack out a few cinders. "Boss-!" The word was a beg, a plead. It was his last before all the warm became silent cold. 

Above him, a high beam came loose, collapsing near him along with other bits of wood and with that, the casino came entirely undone. 

•••

The paper was crinkled from the many times it had been grabbed at, even though it was brand new. On it were plainly written instructions and a scribbled response from the one holding it. 

A young Kingsley Dice stared the paper over, mumbling the words his Daddy helped him write. Jack helped his son come up with an opening he should know well-enough by tomorrow, the first official day of school. Kingsley would recite it in front of his whole class, formally introducing himself. 

"You gotta wow 'em, Kingsley." His Daddy insisted, picking up the pencil and writing down a few things to help him pick from. "Tell 'em about yourself. About me, if you'd like. First impressions are real important Kingsley, you always wanna make people think you're someone special. 'Specially because you are special, son. Now, you pick from all this and add somethin' else if you'd like. 4 sentences and the 'It's a pleasure to meet you all.' like the paper says. Then, go to your room and memorize it for me. And come down when Mama calls you for dinner so you don't get the both of us in trouble." 

Kingley had nodded with a "Yes, sir" for good measure and ran up to his room, facing the mirror and speaking with as much conviction as he could muster. "Hello, everyone. My name is Kingsley Dice. I'm the first son of Jack and Sally-Ann Dice. My father is a singer,"

•••

"And he...taug-ht me how to...play pi...ano..." 

Mugman had heard the soft croaks among the rubble, perking up from where he was. "Cuphead, there's someone else here." He quickly whispered to his brother. The mug had been doubtful when they approached the pile of wood and debris but his brother swore up and down there was something to be found. Even the local beggars had avoided this place like the plague in fear they'd suffer the wrath of the Devil. "Did you hear me? Cuphead?" 

"Hm?" Cuphead looked up, holding a slightly melted gold ring between his fingers. "You say somethin, Mugs? It sounds like you did but I could hardly hear ya." He walked over to Mugman, noticing the fear in his expression. "What's the matter? See something scuttle in the dirt? There's nothing in the Inkwell Isles we can't take!" 

"...some-times I da...nce with him...on ssstage...and...people sa-ay I have a n...nice voice..." 

Mugman shuddered, his whole body shaking with terror. "C-C-Cuphead, it sounds like one of them real scary ghosts! We dealt with 'em b-but what if it's w-w-worse than that one-eyed s-s-specter? M-M-Maybe we should leave." He tried to walk away, flinching just a tad when Cuphead grabbed him by the handle. It was honestly what Mugman expected. One could only hope Cuphead wouldn't try to drag them into some scheme or idea he had. 

Cuphead listened, waiting for the voice to come again. "Mugman, I don't think that's a ghost. I think that's one of the people from the fire. They probably need our help." He mumbled, walking with as much care as he could, avoiding the huge pikes of splinter filled wood and heavy chunks of the walls that had come crumbling down days ago. 

"...some-day I'll...li-ve up to...his lega...cy..." 

Mugman hesitantly followed his brother, just as cautious as they traversed the ruins. The further they walked, the more he could see signs of the enemy that had blazed through it all. Shattered glass, burnt plastic sticking to items, cloth in tatters, the ashes from cards and documents all around. "I don't think anybody could have survived all this. With the state this place is in, I'd say the only person left has to be a ghost." 

"This ghost sounds familiar to me." Cuphead looked around carefully, waiting for the voice to speak up again. "And I wouldn't be surprised if they got caught up in the fire. I still wonder if us throwin' those contracts started it." He frowned, hoping that wasn't the case. Perhaps the casino wasn't the best place but there were plenty of innocent people inside when the fire started. Although no casualties had been reported, there were a fair amount of injured souls. It would be counter-intuitive of them to save Inkwell only to put it right back into danger afterwards. 

"I'm... mm Kings-ley D...ice. It...it is a plea-sure to...meeet y...ou...all..."

"Why would it? We threw 'em into a fireplace. It was probably the Devil throwin a fit after we defeated him. You know he hates losing. He probably got so darn upset he burned this whole place down. I kinda hope they rebuild it." Mugman found himself feeling sorry for the people who worked at the Devil's casino and kept looking around until his gaze went down and he saw a large shoe. "C-C-C-CUPHEAD!" 

Cuphead followed his brother's line of sight, inhaling sharply himself. A high beam had fallen and a foot was the only thing left exposed, the rest of the body buried underneath a large pile of dirt. Somehow, the beam was held up by two barely standing tables on opposite sides, making it unable to fall to the ground and crush whomever was underneath. He approached the shoe and slid the pant-leg up to feel the ankle. It was something Kettle had taught him when he was younger since one day, Cuphead swore he couldn't feel his heart beat and was worried he was no longer alive. Since the neck and the wrist weren't an option, he'd have to find a pulse in his ankle. However, there was no need to find one as the foot twitched from the contact and a voice started up once more. 

"He-llo e...every ww...one...my nnn...name is Kings...ley Di-ce..." 

Both brothers nearly jumped out of their skin, realizing that King Dice had somehow survived the fire and was most likely in delirium after inhaling the fumes. 

"Cuphead, I know we ain't on good terms with him but we can't leave him here to die!" Mugman searched the area frantically, trying to formulate a plan. "How do we get him from under there without having the beam collapse onto him?!" 

Cuphead bit his lip, staring it over as well. "We gotta make a shot and it's gotta be a good one. You aim for one table, I'll aim for the other. If the beam falls on both sides at once, it should split in half, like a twig, I think. We could go get help but I dunno if we should leave him here. And the beam might fall on top of him if we don't take care of it soon. Alright, on my count!

1,

2,

3!" 

Two beams of light shot out of their fingers and onto the tables, the both of them collapsing with a tilt and the beam splitting up and in half from the pressure. It revealed a large, white square head with cracks and black patches on it and a tattered purple suit attached to it. Dice was still trying to recite the paper, even as two sets of hands gently lifted him into a half sitting position, although his words started to slur as he was waking up from the strange dream. 

"Dice? Can ya hear us? We're not gonna fight you or anything, just-we need to know if you're alright. Or if you can walk." Cuphead tentatively spoke, watching Dice's mouth move less as he seemed to be coming to his senses. 

"I doubt he can walk, Cuphead. Pork Rind might be able to help us carry him but I don't think anybody could just up and walk away from that." Mugman tsked, helping to support the large man between them. "I guess we should put him somewhere safe and then go get him. And Elder Kettle probably. He looks real rough." 

King Dice could hardly understand what they were saying, their voices foreign and strange to him. His vision was obscured by his soot covered eyes but he still had the ability to speak. "Who...are...you?"


	2. Deal Me In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kingsely's life before the casino ever came to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is 0 parental abuse in this fic, I've seen it way too many times and I ain't gonna do it too. That being said, it isn't 110% sunshine and rainbows and the Devil is the Devil so?? I guess that's all I can say without spoiling it entirely.

_**Decades Ago** _

The Jazz Club was a rather popular venue in Inkwell.

People loved to dance and drink their cares away, the Jazz Club was happy to help them do it. The busiest nights at the joint were when good old "Black" Jack Dice was on stage, scatting and singing away. No matter how long a break he took, whenever he returned, people were always willing to pay extra to hear him croon. When Jack became engaged to the beautiful Ivory Sally-Ann and she decided to become Sally-Ann Dice instead, he made a promise to her that she would always mean more to him than his gigs ever did. When Jack found out there'd be a little die rolling around soon, he promised his family would always mean more to him than his gigs ever did. It was a promise he fulfilled partially because he had a significant amount of wealth and mostly because he genuinely loved his wife and child.

Kingsley wasn't much for rough and tumble but he was competitive and him and his old man would often find some way to go head to head, often involving more words than anything else. Theirs was a family of smart mouthes, Jack could talk quickest, Sally-Ann always meant what she said and Kingsley was good at knowing exactly what would embarrass whomever he smarted at. His father was lenient because he found him so charming but Sally-Ann quickly taught her son to choose his sass wisely.

Kingsley loved learning about the world mostly from the safest place possible but when his father decided he was old enough to check out the Jazz Club, the young die couldn't have been more thrilled. Music came to Kingsley like flying to a bird. He and his father had a musical ear and the passion to share it with whoever wanted to listen (and perhaps even those who didn't want to listen). When he got on stage and played the piano with the natural skill he had and the skills his father taught, people listened. He wasn't the best player in the world but he was young, energetic and full of soul. Side by side with the band and his father, he'd dance, sing and play those keys for as long as his father was there hours stretching into hours. They went home exhausted, greeted by a smiling Sally-Ann who promptly sent them both to bed and made sure to make breakfast a little later than usual the next day.

Sally-Ann was known for her wit and need to work hard, always getting into situations that required her to roll up her sleeves, spit and get those pretty hands of hers dirty. She preferred it that way. It was she who repaired most items around the house that broke for with all the musical skills her husband had, he could barely make a sandwich without getting something non-edible stuck in it. She could dance (it was how she'd caught Jack's eye, her sharp words had been the ones to keep it there) but she wasn't half as crazy about music as her boys. Often, she had to get them back to doing whatever they were supposed to be doing and she had a feeling that if she wasn't so level-headed, their heads would fly off into a field of music notes with their feet tapping the floor beneath them. Which was another reason why she adored them so much.

So, the Dice family was a strong family. Sure, Sally-Ann and Jack got into a spat every once in awhile and Kingsley could occasionally be a little bratty when he felt like it but they genuinely communicated, listened to one another and most importantly, loved one another with all their hearts and souls. They went out to the park and fed the ducks when they could, enjoyed the cinema every once in awhile but it really didn't matter where they were, as long as they had one another.

Then, one day, a black cloud rolled into the Inkwell Isles. And with it came the end of their happiness and the happiness of many, many others.

Trouble started when the Devil of all people decided he'd buy the Inkwell Jazz Club. The potential for sin oozed through it's walls and his plans to expand the place was often the only thing on his mind. Beelzebub found it rather easy to tempt the owner of the Jazz Club with the riches he could achieve and with that out of the way, he decided he'd take as many of the remaining workers as he could. For unbeknownst to the manager, when he signed the contract, the Devil gained not only his property but the souls of those who worked for him as well.

After several other trips to take what was now properly his, the Devil showed up to the Dice house and faced a determined Jack and a furious Sally-Ann. They had heard the rumors, they'd known before he arrived that the Devil would soon be knocking on their door and they'd done all they could to prepare. Hung up whatever holy items they had, pulled out the family shotgun and sent Kingsley to his room, ordering for him not to come down for anything.

"Jack Dice. It's a real pleasure to meet you. I've heard you have quite a nice voice." The Devil grinned, his yellow eyes shining as he stared at the couple. "From the looks of it, you're not so happy to meet me. Can't say I'm not used to it but I'd like to tell ya to save your bullets before you start loading 'em. Plenty of people shot me when I showed up to collect what's rightfully mine. And as you can see, I'm still here."

"This ain't right!" Sally-Ann argued, her hands balled up into fists. "Jack ain't done nothin' wrong and if he has, he ain't done a damn thing to deserve being owned by-by you!" She spat in the demon's face, not giving a single damn if that meant she'd be thrown into a pit of eternal pain and suffering.

"Sally-Ann Dice. Formerly Ivory Sally-Ann. Still the spitfire you were in your heyday." The Devil chuckled, using his thumb to wipe away the saliva. "It really ain't personal doll, your husband just happened to be working for the wrong place at the wrong time. Bad luck is all. Besides, I'll probably only have him for a century or two, nothing along the lines of eternal damnation." He shrugged languidly, drinking in the fear he could feel radiating off of them.

Kingsley jumped in his bed when he heard gunfire, trembling in fear. "M-M-Mama? Daddy?" He whimpered to air around him, his eyes screwed shut as he hiccuped. "I-I'm scared. I don't want my family gettin' hurt. Cause that. That dumb ol' Mr. Wheezy went and sold the Jazz Club to the D-D-Devil." He shook his head, using his wrists to rub away tears in his eyes. "I can't let Daddy get hurt. And I won't let Mama get hurt either. I gotta-I gotta fight! Even if I'm scared, I can't hide away like a coward!"

The young die bit his bottom lip, searching around his room for anything that could help him. Finally, his eyes landed on a sling-shot, the same one his Daddy helped him learn how to use. Giving a sharp inhale, Kingsley raced out of bed and grabbed it along with the small pail of rocks he had to go with it, opening the door to his bedroom as quick as he could. His little feet raced down the hallway and he was at the top of the stairs when he was able to see his Mama beat up, her body leaning on the wall and his Daddy tangled up in the Devil's embrace. A fire hot rage went through him and he hurriedly took a rock out of the pile, dropping the pail to the ground as he took aim. "HEY!"

The Devil looked up out of instinct, letting out a hiss as a rock slammed into the center of his forehead. "What?!" His bile yellow orbs quickly settled onto Kingsley, narrowing as he growled. "You'll pay for that, you little brat!" He reached out, ready to crawl over to him when one of Jack's hands grabbed him and slammed him back onto the floor, the Devil enduring several hard punches before he kicked Jack off, standing up abruptly and putting a foot onto his chest. "Enough! You got out your little temper tantrum Jack but a deal's a deal! You don't have anything of equal trade to barter then you're comin' with me!"

"NO!" Kingsley raced down the stairs, ignoring the stench of fire and brimstone and the way his stomach flipped at the sight of the hairy beast. "Please! Don't hurt him! Daddy didn't mean it, he was just-he didn't want you to hurt me or Mama!" He shook his head, tears and snot running down his face. "Please! I'll give you anything-anything you want! You could even take me instead!"

Jack gasped, completely out of breath but still trying to speak. "N-o! Kings-" He let out a hard wheeze when the Devil stepped on his chest, unable to make a sound from the action. His body still squirmed, desperate to escape the grip of the demon above him and get to his son.

"You?" The Devil rose an eyebrow, a bemused smirk on his face. "Who are you? And what makes you think you'd be a fair trade for your father? He's skilled. If I had him in my casino, I'd make damn good money. Why should I take you instead, boy?"

Kingsley's heart slammed against his chest, his palms clammy as he took a deep breath. "My name is Kingsley Dice. I'm the first son of Jack and Sally-Ann Dice. My father is a singer and he taught me how to play piano. Sometimes I dance with him on stage and people tell me I have a nice voice. Someday, I'll live up to his legacy. It's a pleasure meeting you. Sir." He bowed his head, more nervous than he ever had been in his entire life after once again reciting the introduction his Daddy helped him write for his first day of school. "If you take me, I won't fight. I'll let you do whatever you want, Sir. Inkwell needs my Daddy but. But they don't need me. So please, Sir. Don't hurt my family. I can grow up and be even better than him if that's what you want."

The Devil looked stunned, staring the child over and getting off of his father. "Well. Don't you sound special?" He beamed, a malicious shine in his eyes. "I'll tell you what; if you come with me, I'll stay far, far away from your parents. I'll even make you my little assistant. If you do this, you might not see them for a long, long time but they'll be nice and safe, just like you wanted and you can take your Daddy's place. Deal?" His pointed teeth shone in the light above, a hand with sharp claws extended for him to shake.

Kingsley's gaze stayed on the floor as he thought about it, his fists gripping his slingshot tightly. He loved his Mama and Daddy. He didn't want to leave them, especially to go with someone as terrible as the Devil. "You promise they'll be safe? You ain't lying at all?" His voice was as small as he felt, unable to think of anything else but making sure they wouldn't be hurt anymore. His father's body looked contorted and his mother's breathing was shallow, his heart twisting at the sight.

"I am able to do many things boy but lying on a deal ain't one of them. You become mine and they'll be safe and sound. Now, c'mon, hurry up. Or maybe you don't mind if I squash 'em like bugs." The Devil threatened playfully, loving how vulnerable he was. Like most children, all he valued was his family, unable to see the bigger picture. Beelzebub would be doing him a favor, getting him somewhere he could learn about the real values of life.

Kingsley choked on a bitter sob before meeting the Devil's gaze, his small hand fitting into the palm of the demon's. "Okay. Okay, I...I want them. To be safe." He stared back up at the Devil, as resigned to his fate as a boy his age could be, even if it would cost him everything. "Deal."

The Devil shook his hand vigorously before he cackled, snapping a black, bottomless pit underneath them that started small but grew larger and larger, ready to accommodate the Devil and Kingsley. "It was a pleasure doing business with you, Jack, Sally-Ann! Say good-bye to your son who will now be official property of my casino for as long as I wish!"

Kingsley watched his parents stare back at him in absolute horror, hardly able to believe this was happening himself. He managed calm his nerves enough to speak to them before he fell into the hole, putting on the best smile he could for them as his vision was swallowed up by the darkness. "I love you."

Once the Devil and young Kingsley were inside, the hole promptly vanished, leaving nothing behind but a now broken slingshot and two broken hearted parents.

•••

The Devil's Casino planned to keep it's staff living there since day one. Beyond the eyes of customers, one of the buildings was an apartment on the inside and in one of those many rooms, a boy was curled up underneath several blankets.

Kingsley hadn't stopped crying since he woke up alone in the new room. Technically, it was nicer than his old one, expensive materials, light purple colors and a chest full of toys his father could have never been able to afford him but Kingsley knew in the end, none of it mattered. This wasn't his room in his house where he'd wake up to his Mama's breakfast and his Daddy's tired hand on his head. He wasn't going to school afterwards or see the Jazz Club later and play with the band again when he got home. He wasn't going to the park to feed the ducks and watch them waddle around, he wasn't going to the cinema and come out laughing so hard his stomach hurt while his Daddy carried him home. He wasn't going to sleep in this bed and get good-night kisses from his parents or another chapter of any book on his Daddy's shelf.

Kingsley was alone.

There was a knock at the door and after three minutes of silence, the demonic entity behind it simply opened it. "Oh Kingsley, still moping over your parents? I know you're like an orphan now and that's rough and all but you'll have to look around at the casino at least once before it opens. That's only two days from now, Kingsley!" The Devil reminded him, staring at the unmoving lump in the bed. "Come on. Where's the fiery scamp that clocked me straight between the eyes? Maybe you could take a few shots at the slacking employees with the new slingshot I put in your toy chest!" He'd also placed a pistol just in case he proved to be a good shot. That could be useful someday.

Kingsley slowly arose from his place on the bed, uncovering the blankets enough to expose his pink eyes and purple flushed face. "I don't wanna see the casino until tomorrow. I don't-" He hiccuped, rubbing his nose with his hand. "And I don't wanna hurt anybody with the slingshot. Those are Daddy's friends." He quietly protested, reminded of the days of the Jazz Club he never thought would end like this.

"They ain't friends of your Daddy's anymore. Most of 'em ain't at all who they used to be and the rest never knew him." The Devil replied, annoyed by his tear covered face. He'd expected a change in the boy's behavior, becoming his property tended to have that effect but somehow, Kingsley was resisting the change. "The Jazz Club is through, Kingsley. Now come out of your room and take a look at the casino! It's much better than the Jazz Club ever was. Laying around here all day ain't natural for a boy your age. Run around with a hoop or something. Isn't that what kids do these days?" The Demon King scratched at his head, not sure what children did for fun other than eat junk food.

Kinsgely wrapped the blankets around him even tighter, laying down again. "I don't wanna run around. I want my Mama and my Daddy back." His voice broke at the end of his sentence, his body curling into himself. "And if I can't have 'em then-then I'll cry until I have to come out! You said it's t-two days till your dumb casino opens so, I'll wait till then! G-Go away!"

The Devil groaned, pinching his forehead between his pointer finger and thumb. He didn't work with children that often, they all tended to go to his Dad. But now he was stuck with this one. That was his own doing, really. He could have nabbed Jack and left but the kid stepped in and it seemed like such a good idea at the time. "Look, kid. We had a deal. You took Jack's place and now you're mine for as long as I see fit. I might need someone like you to help run this place properly once you finally grow up but I gotta train you. You were the one that wanted to do this in the first place and you even said you wouldn't fight." Of course it was a lie, the Devil should have known. He started considered scarring the kid somehow and then sending him back to his parents, letting them be a traumatized family together just so he could get something out of the trouble they caused. That would amuse him, at least.

"I'm not fighting!" Kingsley sat up angrily, the blankets falling off of him. "I'm crying! I never said I wouldn't cry! And you said first that I had to check out the casino before it opened and I still have time! I don't wanna look at it yet! I just wanna lay down and DIE!" His eyes suddenly turned into the reflection of two burning stones of kryptonite, his hands crackling with a similar energy. "I'm never gonna see my Mama or my Daddy again and that makes me sad! Ain't I allowed to grieve?! It never said anywhere in the deal that I couldn't do that!" His fists pounded onto the bed and a green shockwave went through the floor, knocking a nearby vase onto wooden surface below, shattering it. Kingsley was too infuriated to notice it, having gone into one of his pouty moods his parents had hated dealing with.

The Devil was genuinely impressed, seeing his form rippling with an energy he had never witnessed in a child. Had his power unlocked such a potential? Now wasn't the time to test it but if what he was seeing could be controlled, the Devil had a feeling it was more than worth keeping him around. "Hm. Yes, I suppose you're right. The deal we made has no mention of not being able to grieve but," Beelzebub held out his hand palm up before flipping it down, a golden pendulum with crimson patterns etched onto it's sides and a center of pure light unfurling from his fingers and beginning to swing back and forth. "Perhaps I could help you forget your troubles." Every swing caused the glowing center pendulum to change color from red to orange to yellow and back again.

"What?" Kingsley looked at the watch, his burning, blurry eyes starting to dull. "What is that? Why is it so shiny? I've never seen something so...pretty..." The boy gawked at it, not minding that it was getting closer, leaning forward to try and get a better look at it. "It's like a small and colorful fire...wow..." His hands stopped fisting the sheets and his shoulders lowered as he sighed out, fascinated by the object the Devil had made appear. Through this mesmerization, Kingsley forgot about his anger and anything else that had been going through his head, absolutely enthralled with the trinket.

"Yeah, it's pretty isn't it? Take a closer look if you want. It won't hurt ya." The Devil brought the golden item inches away from Kinglsey's eyes, watching his plan fall into place. "All those pretty, pretty colors to look at. You were right, Kingsley; it does look like a fire. This is gonna make all your troubles burn away."


End file.
